


Rule One

by orphan_account



Category: Doctor Who
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-08
Updated: 2015-06-08
Packaged: 2018-04-03 12:01:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4100206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five minutes? Amy began counting life in five-minute segments, but the end was always the same: he never came back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rule One

**Author's Note:**

> This was written ages ago, I just wanted to post it here so I could get used to the way things work on here. Enjoy!

I gazed at him, that madman with the box who ate fish fingers in custard, as he left with a promise of 'five minutes!' I turned around and ran back into the house, packed a suitcase, and ran back outside, hoping I hadn't missed him. I didn't think I had; I had packed as fast as I could. 

I waited and waited, but he never came. I grew tired and fell asleep, right there on my suitcase.

*****

I woke up, as I always did, tears streaming down my face. 

Five minutes? Try five years. And he still hasn't come for me.

Sighing, I rolled out of bed and walked over to my desk. I got out a new sheet of paper and started sketching. I drew the Doctor peeking out of his magic telephone box, the one that has a swimming pool and a library.

When I finished, I put the drawing in one of my binders. I had made this a daily habit; drawing my Raggedy Doctor reminded me every day that he was real.

"Amelia!" I heard Aunt Sharon call. "Breakfast!"

I scampered downstairs. Aunt Sharon was at the sink, washing a pan. I sat down at the table and found eggs, toast, and-

"An apple?" I complained. "You know I don't like apples."

"You used to love them! What happened?"

"I liked them five years ago."

"And then, you suddenly stopped. Why?"

"The Doctor doesn't like them; why should I?"

"Amelia Pond," she said sternly. "Your Raggedy Doctor isn't real."

"Yes, he is!" I cried. "He fixed the crack in my wall, you've seen it!"

"There never was a crack on you wall."

"Yes, there was! Why won't you -"

"We have been through this a thousand times, Amelia. There is no Doctor."

I stood up, my vision blurred by the tears that were brimming in my eyes. I turned around and ran back up to my room. So much for breakfast, but it wasn't the first time this had happened.

I slammed the door behind me, collapsed on the floor, and dissolved into tears.

*****

A week later, I was looking at pictures of blue police boxes on my computer.

"Amelia?" I heard Aunt Sharon say.

I spun the chair around. "Yes?"

"Look, honey, I'm getting worried about you," she said in a soft voice. "It's been getting worse, and I'm pretty sure it's not normal for children to sustain the life of an imaginary friend for so long."

"He's not imaginary."

She ignored this.

"I thought it would be best for you to go to a therapist."

"I don't need a therapist!" I yelled. "The Doctor is real, I know it!"

She ignored this, too.

"Your first appointment is tomorrow."

"But Rory and Mells are coming over."

"Well, then, I guess you're going to have to cancel. Ten o'clock."

She turned around and walked back down the hall. The click of her heels went downstairs. I turned back around and sighed. Why wouldn't anyone believe me?

*****

"Amelia! Four therapists in two months!"

"My name is not Amelia," I said sulkily, staring out of the car window. "It's Amy."

"Sorry, Amy," she replied sarcastically. "But really, they're trying to help you."

"It doesn't feel like help to me."

"They are trained professionals!"

"They sit there and tell me what's wrong with me."

"So we can fix the problems."

"They irritate me."

"That doesn't mean you have to bite them!"

We arrived home, and I got out of the car. I walked up the stairs, back to my room, feeling miserable.

*****

I took down my hair from its bun. The party had been fun, but Rory couldn't make it. I glanced down at my drawings and figures of my Raggedy Doctor, a tear sliding down my cheek.

I was losing hope, the hope that he would come for me and prove the world wrong. Everyone thought I was insane, so I had started to pretend I didn't believe in the Doctor anymore. I saved that for when I was alone.

I climbed into bed and closed my eyes.

*****

I gazed at him, that madman with the box who ate fish fingers in custard, as he left with a promise of 'five minutes!' I turned around and ran back into the house, packed a suitcase, and ran back outside, hoping I hadn't missed him. I didn't think I had; I had packed as fast as I could. 

I waited and waited, but he never came. I grew tired and fell asleep, right there on my suitcase.

I woke up to someone stroking my hair. I was still on my suitcase, and it was morning now.

I opened my eyes and saw a woman with super curly blonde hair sitting next to me. She was wearing a green-gray dress that had a belt going around her waist. She also had on high black boots. Her eyes were sad, as if she'd had a long life full of despair.

"Rule one, sweetie," she whispered. "The Doctor lies."


End file.
